Compassion and Conjugality
by meridian-rose
Summary: Facing execution for sodomy, Nolan is saved when Emily declares him to be her fiancé. Despite her affection for Aiden, she decides to wed Nolan to further her own agenda; Nolan's only regret is it's not a real marriage. While the trio work to find evidence that will exonerate Emily's father, David Clarke, they face danger from the Graysons...(historical AU, full summary inside)


Full summary:

Facing execution for sodomy, Nolan is saved when Emily declares him to be her fiancé. Despite her affection for Aiden, she decides to wed Nolan to further her own agenda; Nolan's only regret is that it will not be a real marriage. While the trio work to find evidence that will exonerate Emily's father, David Clarke, they are also facing repercussions from the Grayson family who framed Clarke, and in particular from Victoria, after her son Daniel was shot during an altercation with Emily. Soon Nolan finds himself trapped between a vengeful Emily, a wounded Aiden, a dangerous Victoria, and the mysterious Clarke quest; happy ever after seems unlikely when their very survival is at risk.

Notes: For the hc-bingo prompt "bullet wounds". This is a stand-alone sequel to "Nolan Ross! In an Adventure With Pirates!" I rarely post to these days, preferring AO3 for ease of use, but I had several reviews for the previous fic, so I thought I'd post the sequel here. If you enjoy my work, please follow me at AO3 under the same user name, meridian_rose.

* * *

Nolan rested his arms on the wooden table and leaned his head onto his hands. He'd been questioned for hours. He'd denied the accusations of course but there was some truth to them, and once accused it would take a miracle for even an innocent man to escape the noose.

Perhaps he hadn't been as careful as he should have been, but Nolan had not been reckless. He'd publicly courted women, and he'd given his interrogator the name of one paramour who would almost certainly attest to Nolan's sexual attraction to the fairer sex. If only he'd always stuck to women and not let his other, so-called unnatural desires, rule his heart. There had not been many men, true, but even one would be enough to see him hang.

Was that one man Tyler? He was not nearly as discreet as Nolan and, when he'd recently swept back into town Nolan had allowed him to stay at the house for a couple of weeks. While there had been no intimacy between them – their relationship, such as it had been, was long over – it might have given people reasons to gossip.

Friends in high places would have been the best protection against this situation but Nolan was not born into money and had few friends and more than a few enemies. He assumed it was a business rival who'd turned him in to the authorities, although maybe it was someone else.

Someone who despised him more than most. Victoria Grayson.

Nolan had been stunned when, on a sailing trip aboard his vessel, the _Amanda_ , he'd rescued Emily Thorne. He was astonished to learn she was the daughter of his one time mentor, David Clarke, hanged for treason.

Emily said the Graysons had framed Clarke and Nolan believed her. She had a map, which he'd promised to help her decipher. The treasure they hoped it led to was not gold, but proof, a notebook of financial accounts that would exonerate Clarke and bring down the Graysons.

Then they'd been attacked and Emily Thorne had unmasked the feared pirate captain Queen Vic as the society lady Victoria Grayson.

During the ensuing scuffle, Emily had stabbed Victoria's son, Daniel, and tossed him overboard. The _Amanda_ had made its escape while Victoria searched the freezing seawater for Daniel's body.

To Emily's surprise and Nolan's horror, Victoria had returned to dry land a week later with an alive, if ailing, Daniel in tow. The official story was malaria, picked up on one of his explorations. Nolan had feared reprisals, but Emily had brushed off his concerns. She explained that Victoria would want the accounts but she didn't have the map that would lead to them. It was most likely that Victoria would wait until Emily found the book before attempting to destroy both it and Emily – Emily was certain of this, she said, because it was what she would do in Victoria's position.

So far it had seemed to be playing out that way. Emily hadn't told anyone that Victoria was also Queen Vic, scourge of the seas, and Victoria hadn't poisoned them at the recent society function they'd all attended. Though if looks could kill, Nolan was certain he'd be in the mortuary by now.

They'd deciphered the map's clues but that had led them only to another mystery. This took the form of a mysterious book of esoteric poetry with the double infinity symbol inscribed into its dark leather cover, and various passages were annotated with cryptic symbols that seemed to suggest other locations where the accounts might be hidden. Nolan and Emily had been working on the book ever since, trying to decode the latest puzzle.

And now Nolan had been arrested on suspicion of homosexuality, and maybe it was Victoria who was behind it. She wouldn't risk getting her hands dirty on dry land; Queen Vic would merely assassinate him, but the society lady had other means of bringing him low. Yes, a few words in the ear of one of her husband's powerful friends would be enough.

How he had ended up here was a problem for later, assuming there was a later. Right now, Nolan thought his best hope was to buy his freedom, but the grim faced official questioning him had not responded to the subtle, and increasingly less subtle, offers of a bribe. After the last offer, the man had made a remark about money not buying redemption and left the room.

The door opened. Nolan didn't look up. He was too afraid of what he might see.

"Your fiancée, Mr Ross," the official said.

Nolan lifted his head, puzzled. Emily Thorne, a vision in velvet and fur, blonde hair exquisitely coiffured, smiled at him.

"Darling," she said brightly. "I know we agreed we would wait to announce our engagement, but under these circumstances you could have admitted that we are affianced." She tugged off one long silk glove and displayed her engagement ring. The silver band held three rubies, each surrounded by tiny diamonds. Not exactly what he'd have picked, but it looked appropriate. He swallowed, uncertain what to say.

Emily sat opposite him and laid one hand on his. "Are you all right?"

"Yes." Nothing a bath and some rum wouldn't fix. He added, belatedly, "My darling."

"I've spoken to Judge Michaels and he's dropping these ridiculous charges," Emily said. She was in her socialite disguise, all bright and breezy, easy to underestimate. He admired the way she wore the persona as if it were simply a cloak she draped about her shoulders. "We can go home."

Relief seized him so fiercely that he could barely say, "Thank you."

Emily clung to him on the way out, as if they might prevent him from leaving the prison with her. Nolan was certainly terrified it might be the case. Besides, it helped sell the lie, that she adored him. For Nolan, the truth was more complicated.

Later, he would think about this later. Now? He really wanted some rum.

"Good God, Nolan," she said, when they were safely outside. "We need to get you home. If word hadn't come to me, if you'd been sentenced…" She shook her head. "I could never let you die."

He climbed into the waiting carriage and said nothing, sinking back into the padded seat and closing his eyes.

* * *

"Thank you," Nolan said, again. He'd stripped off his clothes, washed himself down with a damp towel, and put on a clean shirt and trousers. Now he was sitting by the fire in his sitting room, bare feet buried in the rug, a glass of brandy in hand. He'd run out of rum, which was very careless, but then brandy was more acceptable in polite society anyway. He'd developed a taste for rum as part of his foray into the world of sail, and while it turned out he wasn't much of a sailor, he'd retained the clothing and drinking habits.

Emily was sat in the chair opposite. She'd discarded her fur stole and silk gloves, and, to his delight, her boots. It was a small but intimate gesture to sit alone with her in her stockinged feet. "You're welcome. This is my fault, Nolan. You know this was Victoria's doing. She's coming after you to punish me."

"The thought crossed my mind." He took a warming gulp of brandy. "Are you sure we can't prove she's Queen Vic and have her hanged for piracy?"

"Our word against hers?" Emily shook her head.

Their word, and that of Nolan's crew, the Porters, but they were peasants and therefore largely untrustworthy in legal terms. There was also Queen Vic's crew, but even if they could be located, they were probably loyal on pain of death. Besides, since her return with her sick son, Victoria had stayed on dry land, waiting to see what they'd do next.

Nolan felt that between the two women he was stuck playing a pawn – maybe a knight, if he was lucky – on their chessboard.

"It's true, you know. I am a sodomite." Nolan shrugged, examining the dark liquor in his glass "A most unnatural creature."

Emily stared at him. "Don't say that. You are who you are. You must be more discreet in future, of course. Especially once we're married."

Nolan almost choked on his brandy. When he'd recovered, he blinked a few times and shook his head. "We don't have to actually get married."

Emily toyed with her ring. "I think we should. It will protect you from further accusations of sodomy, whereas breaking off our engagement might stir up suspicions." She smiled. "I was planning to marry anyway. Society is kinder to decent women – docile wives. There's a gentleman I want to do business with who refuses to deal with a silly young woman's concerns, but if I have a questions about my husband's business, well..."

Docile, never. Clever, always. Nolan smiled. "You were thinking of marrying me before I got arrested?"

Emily tipped her head, making a lock of hair bounce against her jaw. Nolan watched it like a cat might a bird, fascinated and wanting to touch it. "I was going to marry Aiden."

The British dock master and fellow member of what Nolan privately called the Destroy The Graysons club. Aiden hated the Graysons – something about his family, but he didn't like to talk about it, and Emily wouldn't tell.

Emily had been telling people Aiden was her cousin to explain why she spent so much time with a lower class foreigner, but he was no relation and Nolan saw the romantic attraction between them. While Aiden and Nolan were wary of each other, they both cared about Emily, and that was enough for them to be genial acquaintances, if not actual friends.

"Aiden has a number of good qualities," Emily said, as if reading his thoughts, "but you bring wealth and more power to the table. I wouldn't have sought to impose on you. However it would seem to be a comfortable solution to our problems."

Impose wasn't the word Nolan would have used. He felt warmth that had nothing to with the brandy flood through him. Emily could, on occasion, be affectionate, but she kept a distance between him, as she did with Aiden, and he'd never thought she might develop feelings for him. As such, he'd tried to ignore his own burgeoning desires for the intelligent, ruthless, beautiful, Emily. To be married, even in pretence, was appealing. It would offer protection. It would also give him chance to become closer to her.

"You may of course have a paramour or two," Emily went on, reaching for one boot. "It is a marriage of convenience, and I would not expect you to be faithful."

Nolan knew three things. The first was that he did not intend to be unfaithful. The second was that Emily would be keeping Aiden close as a potential paramour. The third was that the idea of sharing his fake bride with her fake cousin roused something uncomfortably close to jealousy in him.

"Nor I you," Nolan said, and it was the first time he'd ever lied to her.

* * *

Nolan smoothed out one velvet sleeve, examining himself critically in the mirror. Groom was not a role he'd ever considered for himself, neither in taking care of horses, or, as today, awaiting his bride. If he took a male lover he could never wed them, and none of the women he'd courted had ever seemed like someone he could spend the rest of his life with.

Many men of his persuasion took wives and begat heirs, both to protect their reputations and out of a sense of familial duty, while still keeping male paramours in the shadows. The idea had never appealed. It would feel like betrayal, and it would be living even more of a lie than he did now. Better a roguish bachelor than a cheating husband.

Emily had said he could take lovers and she'd meant it. Nolan had no intention of doing any such thing, however much a sham this marriage was. For Emily though, there was Aiden…

Aiden had been waiting on his doorstep when Nolan had come home last night. His clothes were creased, he was unshaven, and there was the scent of whisky on his breath as he leaned in close to Nolan's ear.

"It should be me she's marrying," he'd said and Nolan felt a pang of regret at the hurt in Aiden's voice. "But she won't see you hang. And so neither will I."

Nolan had been relieved when Aiden took a step back, though there was still a threat to be made. "If you hurt Emily, I will kill you," Aiden said, and Nolan didn't doubt it. He'd made no response beyond a grave nod, and, satisfied, Aiden had slunk off into the darkness.

"What are you doing?" Nolan asked his reflection. His mirror image had no answers. With a sigh, Nolan took up his hat and headed for the door. He had invited one aunt, a few acquaintances, and a handful of business associates. On the other hand Emily Thorne's guest list was substantial. While most of Nolan's guests were people he genuinely liked, Emily had chosen guests in accordance with her role as a socialite and made sure to include those she might want or need to manipulate later.

Which included the Graysons. It would look odd, Emily had insisted, if they were not invited. Any social event of note was graced by the presence of at least one Grayson family member. Nolan had hoped they'd politely decline but he'd been disappointed.

He was concerned about what Victoria might send as a wedding gift. A snake in a box, for example.

Letting his thoughts run wild occupied him on the carriage ride to the church. He disembarked, squaring his shoulders, as if he were going to face a judge rather than attend his wedding.

Jack was the only person Nolan had even considered asking to be his best man. Nolan had brought him a suit and Jack looked dashing in the exquisitely tailored attire. They'd shared a few drinks at the house last night in lieu of a wild bachelor party, and agreed to meet outside the church this morning, keeping things as simple as possible.

"Are you ready?" Jack asked.

"As I shall ever be." Nolan was careful not to meet Victoria's eyes as he took his place at the front of the church, and he noticed Jack too avoided looking directly at her, as if she were Medusa and might turn them to stone.

Nolan tried to not fidget as he waited for Aiden to escort Emily down the aisle. He well knew it should be him escorting her to Aiden, he was painfully aware that the rumours of sodomy had circulated and many of those seated in the church were clucking their tongues at him, and it was a fact that the only reason he could bear the scrutiny was that he knew Emily would not let him down. She would arrive and her presence would give him strength.

Sure enough, a few moments later, Emily began her journey down the aisle. She was a beautiful bride, Nolan thought, swallowing a lump in his throat when Aiden presented Emily to him. The white lace and silk of her dress matched her shoes, and with her pearl necklace, and hair elegantly swept back beneath a gauzy veil, she was a vision.

The ceremony passed without incident, though Nolan had to suppress a smile at Emily promising to obey him. Not a smirk at the thought of her having to do so, but a chuckle at the very notion of her ever doing so. Just another part of the act.

Still, when he dutifully kissed her lips, it felt real. His mind knew it was a charade but his body did not.

Nolan let Emily lead him around, going through the motions, signing the papers, toasting the bride, dancing with her. He kept wondering if it were a dream, but even after more champagne than was advisable, he knew it was real. A real fake marriage.

Eventually it was time to go home. His home, where they would both live. Emily would retain her property, but for this sham to be believable, she must reside under his roof.

"Shall I carry you over the threshold?" he asked when they got to his front door. Emily shook her head, probably on account of the fact he'd stumbled getting out of the carriage and didn't want to be pitched onto the black and white parquet flooring of his entrance hall. "Suit yourself."

It turned out she'd chosen wisely when he tripped on his way into the hall. Emily put a steadying hand on his elbow. "We should get you upstairs."

To the bedroom. Not the same bedroom, surely, but Nolan still held out some hope. If there were not so many stairs, or if they would remain completely still, he'd have been more excited. As it was he had to concentrate on not tripping for a third time. Emily kept her grip tight on his sleeve and they made it safely to the landing.

They paused at the best guest bedroom (something Nolan liked to try and say when tipsy, for the fun of it, but didn't attempt at this moment). Emily released him.

"Your room, milady," Nolan said, waving one hand so erratically he almost unbalanced himself.

She nodded, leaned in and kissed his cheek. "Good night, then," she said and went inside, closing the bedroom door behind her with a quiet but definite click of the lock. Nolan pushed aside disappointment he had no right to feel, and went to his own room.

Unexpectedly and unwelcomely sobered, he spent his wedding night staring at the canopy above his bed, reliving every moment he'd so far spent with Emily, from rescuing her from a life raft, to that chaste goodnight kiss.

She loved Aiden, and Aiden loved her, but damn it, did she not have feelings for Nolan, too? Sometimes he thought she cared - "My clever captain," she'd said, after they'd escaped Queen Vic that first day; "What would I do without you?" one night when they were poring over maps and ciphers; "I could never see you die," when she rescued him from jail.

It was no hardship to be married to Emily. It was however somewhat uncomfortable to be married to Emily knowing she didn't love him. It was better than being executed but then most things were.

* * *

"You'll take care of Emily while I'm gone." It was a statement, not a request. Nolan, leaning against the doorframe, watched Aiden stuff a last item of clothing into the bag.

"I will take of your...cousin."

Aiden shot him a look of mistrust but Nolan gave him a genuine smile. Aiden picked up the bag. "I'll be back as soon as I can."

"I still think you're wasting your time," Nolan said. He and Emily had argued for hours about the coordinates that the poetry book hinted at. In the finish, Aiden had said he'd go alone to check out the tiny island group and, if he was unsuccessful, Emily and Nolan could take a belated honeymoon cruise to the island that Nolan thought was the more likely option.

Aiden shrugged. "Emily is rarely wrong."

There was no answer to that, so Nolan merely straightened up and offered his hand. Aiden clasped it briefly.

"Good luck," Nolan said. "Come back safely. I've grown somewhat fond of you, Mr Mathis."

Aiden laughed and headed downstairs, pausing to call back, "You are not so distasteful to me either, Mr Ross."

* * *

Weeks later, Nolan and Emily had dinner at the Davis house where, of course, the Graysons were also invited. Nolan concentrated on not making a fool of himself with the soup while Emily and Victoria exchanged sharp conversational barbs disguised as social niceties.

Victoria had mentioned how Daniel had gone to convalesce at a mountain retreat known for the healing properties of its spring water. Emily had expressed concern for his health, what a pity he'd picked up such a terrible disease while on his horizon broadening travels. Nolan had bit back a smile and helped himself to another bread roll, using silver tongs that likely cost more than an entire year's rent at his old lodging house.

Nolan did not miss being poor.

Emily nudged him, and Nolan looked up. He'd lost track of the verbal warfare. "Yes, my darling?"

She inclined her head to Victoria. Nolan met the socialite's wicked gaze. Now that he knew she was also Queen Vic he wondered why everyone couldn't see it. He lifted his chin with a confidence he didn't feel.

"I was merely commenting on the haste with which you wed," Victoria said, her fingers steepled together. A large emerald glinted on one finger. "I presume it was to help dispel those ugly rumours about your...personal activities."

Mr Davis did not look pleased at the subject matter but he didn't come to Nolan's rescue. Nolan took up a napkin and carefully dabbed at his mouth before answering. "You may presume as you wish, Mrs Grayson," he said with a casual air. "The truth is, being accused of a crime that carries a death sentence merely instilled me a sense of urgency to seize what life has to offer. I had barely found the nerve to ask for Emily's hand two weeks before, and had planned on a long engagement, but, faced with the prospect of dying, I found myself able – needing - to lay my heart open."

He took Emily's hand and stared into her eyes as if she were the only person in the room, the only person in the world. "It is to my eternal surprise and gratitude that she agreed to be my wife and I am the happiest man alive because I wake each day to stand at her side."

Emily's lips quirked into a smile. Victoria sat back in her chair, studying them.

Mr Davis cleared his throat. "Hear, hear. We should all be grateful for our loved ones." He smiled at his wife, Lydia, (who, Emily, had confided on the way here, was almost certainly sleeping with Conrad Grayson), and took up his glass. Everyone followed suit. Emily toasted Nolan and gave a nod of her head. He'd done well. She approved.

It made his blood quicken to have pleased her, but the truth was it hadn't been difficult. The words were only half a lie and the feelings behind them were no act.

He wasn't entirely sure when he'd fallen irrevocably in love with her. Sometimes he thought it was the first moment he'd laid eyes on her, windswept and damp and exhausted as she'd been. It was fanciful and, if not a lie, than an exaggeration. Yet at some point his feeling had shifted from appreciation of her beauty and intelligence to outright attraction and now into a deep and abiding devotion.

Nolan could not share this knowledge with her. He'd come to learn that Emily preferred to keep her emotions in check. He knew that despite her need for control, she loved Aiden, but not him. He understood that Emily did not share his romantic feelings.

The next evening he went to see Jack. As a gesture of friendship, and in gratitude for the Porter brothers' help in escaping the pirates, Nolan had purchased the bar which Jack had lost the previous year under mounting debts. He'd made Jack the managing partner. Trade was slow but steady and Nolan could afford to absorb any loss.

Tonight, Nolan chose the most expensive bottle of brandy in the bar, and spent the night drinking and pouring out his woe. Jack, sipping at a glass of the fine liquor, listened sympathetically.

"You should tell her how you feel."

Nolan shook his head. Then she'd have to tell him that she did not and would never love him. Possibly talk about going back to her own property, putting around a story that she was overseeing renovations or some nonsense, anything that would put distance between them.

"We could go sailing again," Jack suggested later, after a few more shots of brandy. "A change of scenery might help. You still have the _Amanda_."

"And get entangled with pirates again?" Nolan rubbed at his face. He'd rather not. He was still suffering the after-effects from their last voyage. This prompted him to ask "The Graysons haven't bothered you at all?"

"No."

"Good." Nolan made his way home, thinking about what Jack had said. Perhaps some time away from Emily might help him feel better. He could go and oversee one of his new concerns, an investment someone had recommended to him. He'd purchased the warehouse some months before but never visited it. If he was honest, Nolan wasn't entirely sure what the warehouse even stored. He had cause enough to spend a few days investigating the business.

It was as good a plan as any.

* * *

Nolan was used to being alone, self-reliant. Yet as the efficient but boring clerk droned on about the warehouse and its success he found he missed Jack, someone to talk to in confidence. He missed Aiden, even, who knew everything about Emily, and shared some of Nolan's frustrations with her.

Most of all he missed Emily herself. Her soft floral perfume, her rare genuine smiles, her golden hair, the sound of her voice. He knew she would have opinions worth listening to about his business venture, and he wished he'd brought her here. He could have held her hand to further their charade, wandered the bustling space with her, admiring his empire.

He cleared his throat, bringing himself back to the present. The very reason he'd taken this trip was to be away from Emily. He'd managed it only physically. She haunted his every thought.

"I'm sorry, what were you saying?" Nolan asked, and the clerk dutifully began listing clients that Nolan didn't know they had.

He stayed another day, made a speech, awarded a small bonus to the workers. When he couldn't bear it any longer, he headed home.

It turned out to be fortuitous that he left when he did.

* * *

Nolan knew something was wrong before he even entered the house. There were a lot of lights on, for one thing, gas lamps burning in more rooms than Emily would be using. There was a sense of panic in the air.

"Emily?" He headed upstairs, taking them two at a time. "Emily?"

"Here."

He orientated, headed down the hallway, past an oil painting of the _Amanda_ , and an ugly but expensive vase that he was sure was an investment – he'd outbid Victoria for it at auction and that was the important thing.

The door to the second best guest bedroom was wide open. The room was full of lamps and the fire was roaring in the grate. There was the smell of smoke and sweat and something cloying and unhealthy.

Nolan headed in and found Emily standing at the side of the bed, her hair in disarray, blood on her hands. Aiden, Nolan saw, had returned home, but in a far worse condition than he'd left. A blood soaked cloth was pressed to his upper chest, somewhere below his left shoulder, and Aiden's skin was soaked in sweat. It was a small mercy that he seemed to be unconscious.

"My God," Nolan said. "What...how..."

"Bullet wound," Emily said. "I dug the slug out."

Nolan advanced hesitantly, barely resisting the urge to cover his nose with one sleeve. He wasn't comfortable around sickness or death. "He's sick."

"The fever will pass," Emily said, as if she could make it so by her command. Aiden moaned, muttered something unintelligible. Emily wiped her hands on a towel taken from a pile of dirty rags on the nearby wooden chair and tipped her head, indicating the door. Nolan followed her back to the hallway.

"What happened?"

"Daniel," Emily said, the single word filled with venom.

Nolan closed his eyes briefly. The Graysons would never stop. They'd all have to hang, Victoria, Conrad, Daniel, maybe even Charlotte, if he, Emily, Aiden and possibly Jack and Declan were to be safe.

That was another problem for later. As usual, there were more pressing difficulties to attend to.

"That wound's infected," Nolan said. He wasn't telling Emily anything she didn't know but she merely shrugged. "He needs a physician."

Emily looked to the door and then away. "No."

Nolan blinked. "What do you mean, no?"

"No. We can't risk it." Emily met his gaze, daring him to challenge her. "How can we explain the wound? The Graysons could use this against us. Claim he was injured trying to attack them."

Nolan stared at her. "Say he was robbed and barely made it home. Say it was a hunting accident. To hell with it, say I was duelling with him over some imagined slight!"

Duelling could be punished by death and it was a stupid thing to suggest, for Emily's eyes widened at that.

"I won't see you put in danger again. I've made my decision." Emily turned on her heel and marched away down the corridor. Nolan watched her go, enraged. He knew she was strong and stern, not to mention as stubborn as two or three mules, but he never thought she could be this cold.

Nolan went to his study and poured a large glass of port which he downed without any regard for savouring the vintage. He sipped at a second and then dabbed at his lips with a lace handkerchief. All right. Aiden would likely not last the night without assistance. Emily would not help but Nolan would not stand by and do nothing. What to do?

All they needed was someone discreet, but Nolan had never had cause to consult with a doctor for anything untoward. Where was he going to find someone who'd work for the promise of a decent fee in exchange for their silence?

With inspiration, Nolan pulled on his black frockcoat and, taking up his decorative cane, headed out the front door.

Jack stared at him, polishing a glass with a dirty rag. "What makes you think I know anyone like that?"

Nolan made a sweeping gesture to the bar. "Your clientele is not, shall we say, the most exclusive."

"I always thought rich people had their own physicians who knew better than to talk about their patients."

He had a point but Nolan rolled his eyes. "You forget I am nouveau riche; classless, inelegant. I do not have the same lifestyle or connections as people like the Graysons. I thought you might know someone who was willing to work, shall we say, off the books."

"Is it urgent?"

"Life or death."

"Emily?" Jack put down the glass, concern etched on his face.

Nolan shook his head. "If I tell you, this is in strictest confidence." They both scanned the bar again. It was a quiet night. One customer was asleep, arms cradled around a beer bottle. A couple were sat close to the fire at the back of the room, deep in conversation. Jack nodded and Nolan leaned forward. "Aiden Mathis was attacked by Daniel Grayson. The wound is infected. I fear he won't survive if we do not act quickly. Emily will not summon a physician lest we arouse suspicion."

Jack swallowed. He lowered his voice. "You could try Dr Nicholas. He takes on patients who can't afford to pay much. He saved Declan's life when he got sick about five years back and I had no money for medicine."

Candidate for sainthood. Perfect.

Jack gestured. "I'll show you the way. We'll leave by the back door."

"You don't have to do that." Nolan didn't want to drag Jack further into his complicated life. "Besides, you have customers." There was no need to wake Declan who was no doubt sleeping upstairs.

"We won't be long. Henry over there will sleep until I kick him out at closing," Jack said, slipping off his apron, "and George and Grace are trustworthy enough."

Nolan followed Jack to the rear of the inn, where Jack nodded to the couple and said, "I'm getting some stock from the basement, will you watch the register?" to George, who gave him a brief nod before returning to stare into Grace's eyes with devotion.

* * *

Doctor Nicholas had not asked any questions when Jack said Nolan needed his help. He'd picked up his bag, slipped on his coat and hat, and followed Nolan to the house, Jack heading back to the bar.

He'd asked few questions once inside, and only pertinent ones. Nolan did not have all the answers about how long ago the wound had occurred and so forth, but he did his best.

"You don't have to stay," Nicholas said, seeing Nolan's discomfort as the physician probed the raw edges of the terrible wound.

"Yes, I do." Someone should, Nolan thought. It seemed only right that there was a witness to the suffering. So he stared at the flames, leaning on the mantelpiece, wincing at the moans of pain the treatment wrought from Aiden. He swallowed hard against bile that rose from the sounds of sharp edged instruments, envisaging his own flesh being torn and cut. What seemed like hours passed and he closed his eyes against the stench of infection and iodine.

At last it was done, the wound drained, cleaned, and stitched, and drugs administered. Aiden lay still rather than writhing in torment. He was paler than before. Nolan gently brushed a lock of damp hair back from Aiden's forehead.

Nicholas, drying his hands on a towel, said, "There's nothing more I can do. We can only hope and pray. If he survives the next few hours, I think he'll recover."

"Thank you," Nolan said, and it was inadequate but what else was there to say? "Whatever your fee, I will pay it twice over."

Nicholas studied him a moment. "You care for him."

"He's my wife's cousin." More lies. The last thing he needed was further suspicion of unnatural activities, yet Nolan sensed that Nicholas would not judge him. Besides, there were many kinds of affection. He sighed. "I do. Emily and I both care for him very much."

Nicholas didn't ask where Emily was, which Nolan was grateful for. "I have people and causes I care about. The St Thomas's hospital would benefit more from a donation than I would from a fee."

Nolan approved. "I shall see to it." He would gladly fund a whole new wing in exchange for this service.

Nicholas showed himself out, making no comment at the distinct lack of servants. Emily had insisted they engage a second maidservant alongside his existing part-time elderly housekeeper, but neither they, nor the cook, lived in the house, but rather in separate quarters close by. Nolan preferred it that way. He liked his privacy, and Emily did not care to risk her secrets by surrounding herself with staff merely to keep up with social conventions.

He pulled a chair up to the bedside and leaned back, closing his eyes. He wasn't much given to praying, but he did offer up a brief request, just in case anyone was listening.

* * *

Despite himself, Nolan fell asleep for a short time, waking at dawn with a crick in his neck. He immediately checked on Aiden, who was sleeping soundly, his breathing shallow, but even and unlaboured.

Nolan bathed Aiden's face and checked that the wound was not bleeding. Feeling it was safe to leave Aiden for a while, Nolan began to search for Emily to tell her the good news.

He knocked on Emily's bedroom door but there was no answer. He tried the master bathroom and the study before he found her in the drawing room, staring out of the large windows overlooking the bay. Nolan wondered if she'd spent all night here thinking about Aiden, the way he'd spent all night at his side.

"Aiden is alive," he said. She didn't turn to look at him, merely bobbed her head in acknowledgement.

He'd expected more of a reaction from her. "I disobeyed you," he said. He could see her reflection in the glass, watched her fingering the ruby pendant around her neck. She'd promised to obey him, a vow they both knew she'd never keep, and as her husband Nolan would never be expected to obey Emily. Yet he'd always tried to go along with her wishes, until now.

When Emily didn't speak, Nolan crossed the room to stand alongside her. The sky was grey and pink, the dawn promising a warm day ahead. The ocean was calm, serene. He knew it could turn in an instant to a crushing maelstrom, as Emily's outward calmness could so easily snap and turn to deadly rage.

"I'm not sorry," he said, defiant. "I found a doctor who I'm fairly certain will be discreet. Aiden's still weak, but he's over the worst. He'll live."

Still she said nothing. The silence was charged between them. Nolan tried again. "I couldn't stand by and watch him die, Emily."

She gave a curt nod and licked at her scarlet lips. This silence unnerved him more than any furious retort would have.

"Are you angry?" he asked.

She faced him at last, and Nolan saw the unshed tears glistening in her brown eyes. "No." She took a shuddering breath. "I thought – I had convinced myself that we could not take the risk."

"Even if it meant Aiden's death?" Nolan shook his head. Emily let out a half-sob. It was the most distraught he'd ever seen her but Nolan made no move to comfort her.

"I didn't want him to die," she said at last. "Nor did you, and this, Nolan, this is why I need you. For more than your knowledge of my father or your expertise with codes and ciphers. I need you to make the decisions I cannot. The compassionate choices."

He should feel flattered, but Nolan was still struggling to understand how she could be so cruel. "You frighten me," he said, and that got her attention. She met his gaze, surprise clearly visible on her face. "I've known since the day we met you are dangerous. I admire your strength, Emily, I do. Yet you care about Aiden and that you were willing to see him die...I do not admire that."

He expected defiance but Emily lowered her gaze, staring at the richly embroidered rug.

"Dear God, Emily," Nolan went on, his voice soft but his tone firm. "What if that were me? I am married to a woman who would without hesitation give my life to further her cause."

"No." Emily grabbed at his hand, lifting her chin to look at him once more. "That's not true. I could never have done this if it were you. Aiden knew the risks, he has a stake in bringing down the Graysons. He would understand. You're an innocent, Nolan, you have been dragged into something you don't deserve."

He was too angry to laugh at the idea of him being innocent, pure. Instead he reminded her of the bond they had shared since before they had met. "I loved David Clarke as if he were my own father. I have a stake in this too."

"Yes, but…" She hesitated and Nolan tipped his head.

"But?"

Her voice was barely a whisper. "But…I love you." She released his hand and threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around him and leaning up to kiss his lips.

It was everything he'd wanted and yet Nolan could take no pleasure in it. He kissed her back, but without real passion. When she stepped back, expectant, he sighed.

"I need some time," he said, and left the room, refusing to look back. He locked himself in his room and cursed himself for a fool for not telling her that he loved her too. Then he cursed Emily for being so cold that he was currently unable to accept her declaration as truthful. He cursed Aiden for getting injured, and Daniel for inflicting the wound, and Victoria for birthing the vicious snake, and Victoria again for framing David Clarke and causing this whole damn mess.

Exhausted both physically and emotionally, Nolan fell asleep fully clothed, and dreamt of being onboard the _Amanda_ once again, watching Emily refuse to rescue Aiden as he drowned in a blood red sea.

* * *

Nolan had given instructions to his housekeeper that Aiden was to be disturbed as little as possible. Taking a leaf from Victoria's book, he'd invented a story about a tropical illness picked up on Aiden's travels.

When he went to see Aiden for himself, he was surprised and gratified to see him much recovered, sitting up and sipping at a tall glass of water.

"I was worried," Nolan said, gracefully seating himself once more. "I came home to find Emily playing surgeon and you at death's doorstep. What happened?"

Aiden took another swallow of water. "Emily was right about the island. I found the so-called treasure."

"The notebook?" Nolan's delight was short-lived for Aiden grimaced. "Another clue?" Nolan felt a spike of irritation and from the looks of it, he wasn't the only one.

"I'm starting to think this is a wild goose chase," Aiden said. "It was a compass this time. I think it's to be used with the map that led us to the poetry book, useless without it. Which is lucky for us, because Daniel Grayson and his bodyguard jumped me when I got back to the docks. Put a bullet in me, took the compass. They threw me in the water, left me for dead."

Nolan winced.

"I don't even know how I made it home," Aiden said.

Nolan refilled the glass from the nearby jug. "You did, that's the important thing. We can get the compass back. As you say, we have the map. The Graysons cannot find the accounts without both of these things."

Aiden nodded. He closed his eyes. Nolan took the glass from him. He still needed to rest. He'd leave Aiden to sleep, as he'd told the staff to do.

"Nolan?"

He paused and turned back to face Aiden, who'd forced his weary eyes back open. "Yes?"

"Where's Emily?"

Nolan shrugged. "Probably planning her next move against the Graysons. If you told her about the compass, then I expect she's planning a burglary."

"I think I did. My memories are somewhat hazy."

"That's to be expected. The blood loss, the infection…" Nolan took another step back towards the bed. To hell with it, Aiden deserved the truth, and Nolan needed to express his frustration about the situation. "You were sick, Aiden. And Emily didn't want me to fetch a physician. She was worried the Graysons might somehow insist you had initiated the attack and claim Daniel acted in self defence."

"It sounds like the Graysons," Aiden agreed.

Nolan blinked. Didn't he share Nolan's incredulity at Emily's cold-bloodedness? "You would almost certainly have died if I hadn't come home when I did. I made the decision to risk finding someone trustworthy who would treat you."

"Then I owe you my life." Aiden gave a frown, not liking being indebted to his rival, then gave a short laugh. "You are fond of me, then."

"Very much." Nolan took Aiden's hand in his. "Aren't you angry with Emily?"

Aiden shook his head. "She did what she thought she must. She gets so focussed sometimes. She needs other people around to help her see the bigger picture. She needs us. You."

Nolan smiled and squeezed Aiden's hand. Aiden and Emily were more alike than she and Nolan. "I see. You understand her motives in a way I struggle to. I bow to your wisdom. Now, get some sleep. I'm sure Emily will come and see you later, and you will need all your strength to deal with the myriad of questions she'll have about the compass."

* * *

Nolan ate dinner alone that night. Emily stepped into the room, said, "I'm hiding the map until I can get the compass back," and left the house without another word.

He'd never truly felt lonely before, yet now he had two people living with him and Nolan felt lost and shunned. It wasn't Aiden's fault he was still recovering and couldn't join him at mealtimes, but Emily spurning him the way she was doing was a conscious choice and it hurt more than Nolan would ever admit.

He didn't even dare to go and drink with Jack, unwilling to leave a vulnerable Aiden alone. This was his role now, to be the responsible and reliable one. It was amusing to him in a way that would lead to hysterics if he let it.

* * *

One morning, Nolan awoke to find a handkerchief on the pillow next to him, carefully folded around something. He tentatively picked it up, wondering if he needed to start locking his door, and folded the cloth back.

He'd imagined any number of terrible things the handkerchief might hold, but what was inside surprised him utterly. The battered brass compass had a double infinity sign inscribed on the outside, and the initials DC on the inside of the lid.

The dial was marked with N, for north, as standard, but there were, cryptic symbols and coloured lines in place of any other usual markings. No doubt it would, as Aiden suspected, take the map, and maybe the book of poetry too, to be able to use it.

So Emily had retrieved the compass from the Graysons, that was expected. To give it to Nolan though, was not. Did she expect him to get on with deciphering this latest clue, and this was her way of telling him without actually being in the same room with him while he was awake?

Nolan caressed the compass. No, it was more like a peace offering. To show that she needed him. To show that she was letting him take the lead, trusting his judgement.

Or so he hoped. With renewed vigour, he jumped out of bed and began to dress.

Emily was sitting on a bench by the water feature, where three stone dolphins merrily sprayed water at each other. The fountain had come with the house and some thought it gauche, but Nolan liked it and had kept it as was. If he'd stayed on the grass she would not have heard him, but he walked down the gravel path, and while she had to know he was there she didn't react to the crunching of the white stone beneath his shoes.

Nolan smoothed out his jacket before sitting alongside her. She was wearing midnight blue, which matched his coat. She'd discarded her boots nearby and her bare feet were tucked up just beneath the bench, where the cool grass could caress her toes.

For a while neither of them spoke. Nolan watched a butterfly land on the edge of the fountain, sunning its wings before leaving in a blur of red and orange.

"You've been avoiding me," he said at last.

From the corner of his eye, he saw Emily's head dip slightly in acknowledgement.

"Aiden is talking about going home," Nolan said, and that caught her attention. "I told him he's still in no condition to live alone. In fact, I had a better suggestion." He sat back, letting the gentle curve of bench support his spine. "I told him to move in with us. We have plenty of rooms, and he is family."

Not by blood or marriage but Nolan meant it. The three of them were a family now, for better or worse.

Emily looked away. "Will he?"

Nolan couldn't make out if her tone was hopeful or bored. He didn't like dealing with this Emily, the cool headed justice seeker. He wanted to talk with the Emily he cared about, the one whose desire for revenge was tempered with humour and compassion. The woman he loved.

"He's thinking about it. You should talk to him." Persuade him, he meant, but giving Emily specific instructions was as fruitless as ordering Aiden around. They were all of them stubborn and self-righteous, yet under the right circumstances the men would both yield for Emily, and she could choose to bend to their will. It was a delicate manoeuvre to make this happen. Sometimes the direct approach was still the best. Nolan sighed. "I wish you would talk to me. I miss our conversations."

She turned, moving so that one knee was atop the bench. She placed a hand on his knee. "I thought you were angry. That you would never forgive me."

Nolan was enjoying the warmth of her fingers through the fabric of his trousers and it took some effort to focus on the situation at hand. "I was angry, at first. I've been trying to understand. I know why you did it, but to be capable of such a thing...I've been thinking."

She let him speak, gave him the space to choose his words carefully. He had long contemplated this, and after his conversation with Aiden, had some ideas he'd wanted to discuss with Emily. He took a breath. "You knew I would not let him die, not if there was any chance to save him. It makes me wonder, if you were able to refuse to get help yourself only _because_ I was here. That you would have made a different choice, otherwise."

It was a way he could accept what she'd done. It made a certain sense. Emily stared at him for a long moment. "I've been wondering the same thing. I suppose we can never know."

"Indeed." Nolan placed one hand over Emily's. "There's something else I have been thinking about. Did you mean it? When you said you couldn't have let me suffer?"

Emily nodded. "I did."

"You meant it when you said you love me?" His voice sounded incredulous, though he hadn't intended it to.

"I did. I do." Emily gave him a sad smile. "I love Aiden, it's true. It's also true that I love you. My brave captain, who risked his life to save me the same day we met. I wanted to tell you before this, but I thought you loved men. I know you love men."

Nolan tried to explain. "Men and women. I love broad shoulders and deep cleavage alike." If he'd known this was the cause of her reticence he'd have made things clearer before.

Emily took a moment to consider this. Her mouth quirked into a smile. "Blondes?" she asked and he smiled, lifting his free hand to caress a silken strand of her hair.

"Emily," he said, his voice husky. Then they were kissing and he wasn't sure who had initiated it, and it didn't matter.

He never wanted it to stop.


End file.
